


Are you testing me?

by flickerbyniall



Series: Prompts [26]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, but enough, not that much angst, thats it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:27:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22803319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flickerbyniall/pseuds/flickerbyniall
Summary: Inspired by last night's events at the BRITS 2020.
Relationships: Niall Horan/Harry Styles
Series: Prompts [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/989268
Comments: 13
Kudos: 109





	Are you testing me?

“Are you testing me?”

It’s almost six in the morning and Niall’s eyes are not fully opened. He yawns and rubs his eyes as he gives his brain a couple of minutes to restart itself. It was a good night. He wasn’t exactly planning on going to the Brits but things turn out not as bad as he feared. He spent the evening with Lewis and the rest of his friends he hasn’t seen in a long time, there were laughs and tons of alcohol involved even before they left the venue and got to the after-party.

He’s tired, drunk and with – exactly – twenty-three minutes of sleep. They were planning on keeping the drinks going in Niall’s place but things went south when Will ran to Niall’s restroom the second he stepped into his house and Lewis fell asleep on his couch five minutes after Niall opened a bottle of gin. So he stayed chatting with Aiden for a little longer until they lowly faded into sleep, only to be woken up minutes after by Niall’s cheek slapping into the floor thanks to the unstoppable sound of his own doorbell.

So he stumbled his way to the hallway and finally the door, wearing nothing but his briefs and the light blue shirt he was wearing in the award show.

He doesn’t recognize the voice at first, he doesn’t even know why did he just open the door without checking first but his head is starting to hurt already and his vision is blurrier than usual so it makes sense that he is not thinking clearly at the moment. It could be a paparazzi taking the best pictures he could have for the next morning Sun’s front page.

It doesn’t take him too long to recognize the man in front of him after he finally opens his eyes and gets used to the six a.m. light coming right at his face, soft but still enough for drunk man’s eyes to look down. The first thing he sees is bright yellow, loud and striking yellow thighs and he doesn’t have to look up to know who’s been destroying his doorbell.

“What are you doing here, Harry?” he finally says, running his fingers through his hair and trying to stand up straight and cross his arms to proof he is not affected by his senseless presence at his doorsteps but the facade falls immediately the second his eyes lay on Harry’s face.

He feels his shoulders give in and suddenly is aware of the fact that he’s only wearing one sock and the cold air is already messing up his bad knee but he doesn’t want to invite him in, he doesn’t want Harry looking like a train wreck with his hole night written all over his face in the inside of his house, so he rests the weight of his body on the door frame, making Harry stumbling back one step.

“You didn’t answer,” he establishes, pointing his unbalanced index finger on Niall’s chest hair and starting at it for a moment before he burps and looks up to his face. “Are you testing me?” he says again, barely getting the words out of his mouth. He is hammered.

Niall signs, he closes his eyes and rubs his forehead with the hand that’s not holding the door that keeps Harry from looking inside his house, not that was much to see or Harry was capable of seeing anything further than a five feet distance if his watery eyes could say something.

“What do you mean?” Niall whispers stretching his neck to look behind Harry, trying to find his car or anyone that brought him to his house. “How did you even get here?”

“A black car drove me here,” Harry answers like it’s not big of a deal. “But that’s not the point!” he yells and Niall has to put his hand over his mouth to shut him up but Harry takes it and holds it with his two hands right over his chest. “With that _Crapaldi_ guy,” he says and he doesn’t sound that drunk anymore. “Are you really fucking him?”

“For Christ’s sake!” He grabs Harry by his stupid yellow jacket and drags him into the house before he could wake up his neighbors if he hasn’t already.

But maybe it was a big mistake because he next thing he hears is an over the top kind of dramatic gasp and then Harry is running through the hallway, picking up Niall’s clothes, leading to his living room where the rest of the boys are sleeping and finally, Niall hears his name being yelled and he runs to catch up with him.

“Are you sleeping with all of them?” Harry says, dropping Niall’s trousers to Aiden’s face but the only reaction he gets from him is turning around to face the other side of the couch.

“Is that Big Bird?” they both turn to see Lewis’ face popping from somewhere in the cover Niall put over him only to say that before falling asleep again.

“Did he just-?!” Harry drops the shoes and the rest of the clothes but before he could start yelling again, Niall grabs his wrist and takes him to the kitchen.

They fall into an awkward silence when they get there and Niall turns on the coffee machine to make them both a cup. He lays his hands over the table, waiting, not wanting to turn around and see Harry like this. It hurts too much, it still hurts and that makes him so mad.

He expected Harry ignoring him all night, he knew that would happen so maybe he was a little bit bitter and slightly tipsy when he recorded those stupid videos with his friends and maybe that’s the reason Harry came but he never expected this. Yes, he wanted to draw his attention but he wasn’t sure if he would even see those ten-seconds stories in an app he doesn’t use or even follows him. So Harry knocking at his door with dirty pants and messy hair was at the bottom of the list of wild way that a night like that could end.

The coffee machine beeps loudly, shattering the tension and giving him goosebumps on his arms and shivers all over his spine. He makes to cups, one with three sugars for Harry and one with two for him and hands it over to him, looking at his pretty violet nails.

“You kissed him,” Harry whispers, blowing the steam that comes from his cup, his lips touching the edge, not drinking it yet, letting the smell of morning coffee entering his lungs.

“I didn’t kiss him,” Niall says taking one sip and regretting him the second the hot liquid touched his tongue.

“I’m not talking about tonight,” Harry avoids his eyes when Niall finally looks up. “I saw it in a video,” he drinks the coffee slowly and Niall wonders if his tongue is not getting burn of he’s just that good to suck it up. “A whole show, you were over the bar with that Mendes kid and-”

“You are one to talk…,” Niall cuts him off, leaving the coffee mug on the table he was leaning on before standing right in front of Harry, “… when you have your face full of lipstick.”

Harry frowns and takes his phone out of pocket to look at his reflection before blushing and rubbing his face with his jacket’s sleeve. Thousands of pounds’ suit looking like a kitchen rag.

“This is not-” he starts to explain, looking at his reflection again to check if the lipstick’s still on and finally turns to Niall when he’s satisfied with the look on his face.

“Save it, Harry,” Niall says crossing his arms over his chest. “We both know that if I pick up my phone right now I’ll know exactly what you were doing.” He takes his coffee mug and blows a couple of times before he drinks the coffee.

The time starts running but they don’t move. It could be so easy now to ask Harry to leave, to call him an uber or something and they would end this thing for real, they would finally patch up everything that has happened since they met and never talk to each other ever again, it’s not like it would be terrifically different at how things are right now. But he doesn’t, Niall doesn’t move a muscle for other than drinking the coffee and keeping himself from looking to Harry’s eyes because it would be game over for him.

“How did we come to this?” Harry asks in a whisper again. “Why do we keep hurting each other?”

Niall sighs, loudly. He knows the exact moment that started this stupid quarrel between the two of them, he also knows how does it end, with one of them in the other’s bed and keeping the score going up and down on who is the first to give in. Niall has lost more times than he could be proud to admit – or that he could count – but not today, not when he has Harry waiting for him to end this.

“We broke each other’s hearts and never address it,” Niall finishes his coffee and takes Harry’s mug the moment he finishes his and puts it on the dishwasher.

“We were never good at communication anyway,” Harry smiles, getting closer to Niall, his hand going right to hold his face but Niall steps back.

“Don’t,” he whispers, but Harry gets closer.

“It’s okay, I lose this round,” Harry says and Niall can hear the last bit of his heart cracking.

“We can’t keep doing this,” he says, fighting the tears running to his eyes with what his soft wasted brain can give him. “I’m out,” Niall tries to leave the kitchen but Harry holds him from behind, hugging him, covering his back with his chest and laying his hands on his hips to finally kiss that spot on Niall’s neck that he knows too well.

“Let’s go to sleep,” Harry whispers on his ear, biting and licking his lobe, making Niall feel all the wrong things in the right places. “If you still hate me by breakfast, I’ll go.”

And Harry is wrong, he didn’t lose. Niall does, he always loses when it comes to Harry because he knows he could never hate him, just like this very moment when he lets Harry grab his wrist and take him upstairs to his room as nothing ever happened.

_He’s falling again._


End file.
